I Zombie I [Omnibus Edition]

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I Zombie I [Omnibus Edition] Page 83

by Jack Wallen


  So, I took off the other way.

  But the zombie bastard continued on toward the car.

  “Holy fuck!”

  The zombie reached the car and made it straight for the rear passenger seat – Jacob’s side. When the soggy bag of meat made it to within licking distance of the window, it just stood and stared; its body slowly waving back and forth. Inside the car I could hear the sounds of panic rising and falling – mostly rising.

  But the beast just stood there, like it was transfixed on some hidden dimension only meant for the rotting eyes of the undead.

  “Hey!” My voice shattered the magic moment. The zombie turned to me and let out a sound I hadn’t heard from the walking dead. The sound was tonal, but more than one tone – a chorus of well-trained operatic cows, or like some special effects in a really bad sci-fi movie, only this was all too real.

  My hand held the pistol, steadily pointed at the bastard’s forehead. But even with the bangbang ready to knock the son of a bitch permanently into a state of slumber, the thing went back to the car window. I didn’t have to think too long and hard as to the why the zombie was so enamored of the contents of the Audi.

  “Jacob.”

  When the realization hit me, the pistol unloaded three shots into the moaners head. Just as the thing hit the ground, the anonymous gun blast went off behind me. Shortly after the overly-loud gunshot, the male that screamed out of the building earlier stumbled into the parking lot. He was hurt. My gut told me the boy had been bit. As soon as he was near enough for my eyesight to adjust, my suspicion was confirmed.

  “Help!” The boy cried out, holding his arm. Blood sprayed out from between his fingers. The moaner that bit him must have ripped through an artery.

  “Stop!”

  I couldn’t help him. The boy was gone, already infected.

  “I need help.” The boy drew closer.

  “I said stop. You’ve been bit. You’re infected. There’s nothing that can help you.”

  The boy continued forward.

  “That’s not true. You’re Bethany right? You have a cure. You can save me. I risked…”

  The boy dropped to his knees. He was bleeding out. I didn’t have the heart to tell him there was no cure. I wasn’t sure if he would bleed out before he amplified. If he amplified first, the blood loss wouldn’t matter.

  The pistol in my hand had an empty clip. If the boy amplified, he’d be on me in an instant.

  “Please. You have to help me. Just give me the cure. You can even toss it to me and I’ll inject myself. I was a nursing student… I know how to…”

  The boy started convulsing and screaming. He was turning. I dashed to the car, threw open the door and grabbed for my bag. I always had a spare clip.

  “Fuck! Where’s my clip?”

  I turned back to the car and saw the clip shining in the driver’s seat. It had fallen out when I grabbed the bag.

  As soon as I turned back, I heard the scream of the boy. He’d turned. He was a screamer.

  Before I could slam the clip into the pistol grip, the screamer was on me. The bastard dragged to the ground and forced to my back. The best I could do was reach my hands up and block the screamer from getting close enough to bite. I could smell his already rotten breath, look into the curdled orbs of his eyes.

  With all my strength, I did my best to heave the beast to the side. I kicked up, sent a knee into his groin; everything I could think of. Nothing worked. The monster insisted itself upon me. Gnashing teeth drew nearer. This was it. I was finally about to get pimp slapped by the bitter hand of irony.

  The hot scream of the zombie was in my ear when the gun went off. The shot was made from the side, so all back spatter sprayed out and not down.

  The screamer rolled off, an un-lifeless lump. When the corpse was out of my line of sight, I had a perfect vision of Gabriel, holding the smoking gun.

  “Chicago style.” Gabriel smiled down at me and offered a helping hand.

  Finally upright, my knees decided they hadn’t had enough of being down, and gave out. I couldn’t believe it. I had already gone to Hell and back, swam naked in the River Styx, got raped and reamed by Satan himself. So why was I afraid? Zombies had become common place and I had seen everything the undead nation had to offer. And yet, one simple screamer had me pissing my pants. One. Screamer.

  “Bethany!” Echo was out of the car and on her knees at my side. Her concern was not only genuine, but touching.

  “I’m okay. Really. Just shaken up a bit. I’ll be fine.”

  Once more unto the standing room only breech, I took my chances and braved gravity. This time, however, my knees did not decide to give into the Earth’s pull.

  “Thank you Gabriel, for saving my life. I owe you one.”

  Gabriel started to protest the owed favor, when I stopped him silent. I knew he’d need that favor returned some day. I only hoped the return didn’t have me pulling a trigger of a gun aimed square at the boy’s brain.

  “Let’s get the fuck – ”

  Before I could complete my thought, two cell phones rang simultaneously – one in my pants pocket and the other somewhere on the grave-still zombie. Curiosity got the best of this kitten and I rolled the monster over with the heel of my foot. A smartphone dropped out of the boy’s pocket. The name on the screen read ZRT – Seattle. I couldn’t resist. I answered the phone.

  “Yeah?”

  “What’s the status of the target?” The voice on the other end of the line spoke out.

  I looked over at my phone to see Jamal’s name on the screen.

  I hung up the dead zombie phone and answered my own.

  “J-Tiz, what do you know about ZRT?”

  There was a pause. I didn’t like pauses. A pause was Hollywood-speak for hidden agenda or secretive information.

  “Never heard of ‘em girl. Now, what’s taking you so long to get here? I thought you perfected the hyper-drive already?”

  It was my turn to pause. There was something to these two calls coming in simultaneously. I don’t know. Maybe I’ve grown overly paranoid since the Mengele Virus hit. Or maybe my blood runs cold with conspiracy. Either way, on one phone line or other, something was amiss.

  “Straight up, Jamal?”

  I was greeted with another silence. Now I knew something was awry.

  “Straight up B. Are you okay? You’re starting to worry me? Girl, this shit done hit the fan and splashed all over the God damn planet. We don’t need you dumping more feces on the fire.” Jamal was good. He always did know just what to say to put everything into perspective. And that was the way it was with our relationship. From day one it was always a push and pull between brother and sister and lovers. We never really knew where we stood. Honestly, I was happy I’d get another chance to challenge that relationship to see where it would go.

  “I’m good Jamal. We’ll be there in a few days. Just – ” something had me hesitating. There was something left unsaid that needed to be said. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it though. “Just stay in touch with me. I need to know you’re still there waiting.”

  And with that, I said my goodbye.

  “What’s going on B?” Echo was out of the car and by my side. “Who’s the dead guy? What’s up with the phone calls? Is it safe to stock up now?”

  Teens had this uncanny ability to speak entirely in questions. It was like they were incapable of doing the slightest bit of research on their own.

  The truth, however, was that I owed it to everyone on this apocalyptic three-hour tour to remain as open and honest as possible. Enough lies had been told since the Zero Day Collective hacked the planet’s DNA. I wouldn’t be part and parcel to spreading more untruths.

  I looked to Echo and smiled. “Honestly, I don’t know what’s going on. But I’ll find out. Trust me on that one. The dead guy? I have no idea who he was. If you really want to know, you can rifle through his pockets and see if he has anything that might give up his identity. Just be careful you don’
t get any of his juice on you. I don’t want to have to put a bullet between your eyes.”

  The look on Echo’s face was priceless. Who said it was wrong to have fun in the middle of an apocalyptic crisis?

  “I’m kidding. Sort of. I mean… just grab a bag and fill it with any kind of edibles you can get your paws on.”

  It only took a smile to get Echo moving. She was right to question. And honestly, I hope like hell she keeps the questioning up. I needed that girl to keep me honest. The second I start hiding information is the second this whole nightmare hay ride derails.

  Gabriel chased off after Echo. I watched him run after her wondering if it was going to be necessary to keep my eye on him. Little was known about the man and little would be tolerated. The second his dick falls out of his pants is the second his ass hits the pavement. I’d rather take on a horde of screamers than a second of teen drama.

  I had to get the Audi to the gas pump. I reached in, put the car in neutral, released the break, unlocked the steering wheel, and started to shove. I was actually surprised the metal beast started moving forward. As soon as the car started picking up a bit too much speed, I realized I was on an incline. I hopped in and steered the slow-moving German vehicle to the gas pump.

  The big fingers-crossed moment was nigh. I inserted the gas nozzle, tapped the high-octane option, and ran inside to okay the sale. We had yet to come across a station with empty tanks. How? I have no idea. The only logical conclusion I could draw was that, with nearly eighty percent of the population zombified, there were simply not enough drivers to drain the petrol coffers.

  Inside the Quickee mart, I grabbed a glance to see that an underage quickie wasn’t going on and tapped the blinking button for pump number five. So far so God-damn-good.

  “B. Bad news. Shelves are empty. No food.”

  I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. But now was such bad timing. We still had some food left in the car, but not enough to get us to Seattle.

  “Wait. I found something.” Echo called out, derailing my train of thought on the doom and gloom express. When I looked back her way, she was holding up a bag in each hand.

  “Dog and cat food. I’ve eaten worse. And there’s plenty.”

  I didn’t want to know. I really didn’t. I also couldn’t believe my life had devolved to the point where animal kibble was what’s for dinner. But, Echo was right. In a pinch, we could survive on the mangy meals.

  “Hey, maybe it’ll make our hair shiny and healthy.” Gabriel chimed in.

  “And you’ll probably start licking your balls.”

  “How do you know I don’t already?”

  The two ‘kids’ continued on while I ran back out to fill the Audi’s tank.

  On my way, the dead zombie’s phone rang again. I pulled the handset out of my pocket and looked at the screen. Again the caller was ZRT. I wasn’t completely convinced the caller wasn’t the Zero Day Collective hiding under the guise of a different acronym. I don’t know if it was my overly paranoid conscious mind, or the fact that the letter ‘Z’ will always and forever be associated with the crew that destroyed mankind.

  Sesame Street be damned.

  Of course, there was no way I was going to answer the phone. No way in Hell. As far as I knew, I was off the ZDC radar, and it was going to stay that way.

  Chapter 9

  November 20, 2016 1:23 PM

  Zero Day Collective Mobile Headquarters

  “Sir, we have confirmation the package is en route heading west by car. We’re working on pinpointing her exact location. Are we to mobilize?” The communications officer spoke over the ever-present, low-thrum of the transport vehicle. The noise wasn’t loud, nor was it invasive, just always there, in the background, reminding the ZDC survivors their permanent headquarters had been lost.

  “Remind me, Sergeant, what exactly are we to mobilize? We are currently rebuilding and re-harvesting an army.” The commander wanted to crack the whelp across the back of the skull, but soldiers were hard to come by now. The last time the Zero Day Collective tangled with Bethany, they lost thousands of men and women and even more zombie foot soldiers. This time around they wouldn’t be so careless. Their next battle would be more carefully planned; better informed decisions would be made. And with a mole practically at Bethany’s side, they’d have their way the second they were flush with boots to hit the ground.

  Until that moment, it was all about planning. Bethany Nitshimi wasn’t your average civvy. Bethany was smart, resourceful, and she had something no one else had – Jacob.

  The commander’s communicator beeped.

  “Commander Faddig here.”

  The voice on the other end was crisp, as if they were standing to the side of the officer. “Commander, I think you’re going to want to come into the lab now.”

  The transport had but a few ‘stations’ tucked within its shiny metal box – a command center, a sick bay, a kitchen, and a lab. All of this took up a single floor, with very cramped quarters.

  “On my way.”

  The tech only ever called the commander into the lab when they had something good to share. Faddig’s skin tingled. Something big was coming.

  Faddig had taken control of the Zero Day Collective when it seemed the entire order was about to collapse under the bloated weight of a collection of leaders more concerned with profit than executing the righteous task of the cleansing. Faddig was the only member of the board with balls enough to remove the dead weight and push the cause forward. With strong enough ties to the remaining military contingency, Faddig managed to pull The Collective out of the growing heap of ash that threatened to drown what little hope the new human race had.

  New Human Race.

  The thought alone gave him chills. Wiping clean the slate, ridding the race of its chaff and debris, Faddig was to be the prophet of the next iteration of mankind.

  “Sir. This way.” The lab technician gestured for the commander to follow into a secured, sealed anti-chamber. Inside the chamber was a cube made of clear, three-inch thick Plexi. Inside the cube a zombie, perched on a chair, slowly rocked back and forth.

  The lab tech picked up a phone receiver and held it to his ear. After pressing a button on the receiver, he spoke into the phone.

  “Subject 001. Stand up.”

  The zombie slowly stood.

  There was none of the tell tale signs of zombie-dom. This was just a skinny man slowly standing out of a chair. The zombie stood, nearly motionless, in front of the chair.

  “Subject 001. Turn around and face the rear wall of the room.”

  Again, the zombie obeyed the command.

  “Brilliant.” Faddig whispered, in near shock at what he beheld.

  “Subject 001. Speak your name.”

  In a freak show, monotone voice, the undead man spoke. “My name is Subject 001.”

  The lab tech tossed a sideways glance toward Faddig and then back to the cube.

  “Subject 001. What is your purpose?”

  There was a brief hesitation, as an uncomfortable silence blanketed the room. Faddig stepped in closer to the cube and placed his hands on the Plexi. The zombie looked up and made eye contact with the new leader of the ZDC. The monster’s eyes were not the cloudy white he’d grown used to, but could have passed as human, save for the jaundiced whites.

  “My purpose is to eliminate Bethany Nitshimi.”

  The breath was punched out of Faddig’s lungs. He stood, staring at the zombie, momentarily unable to breathe; his brain too overloaded with amazement to remember the lower functions.

  “How did you… Is this… When can we… ” Faddig’s mind released a deluge of questions at once, all of them tripping over his tongue to be the first asked.

  “All in good time sir. All in good time. The test subject is not ready to be deployed. Subject 001. Please return to your seat and wait further instruction.”

  The zombie slowly turned, made his way back to the chair, and sat. There was no complaint, no
hesitation, just capitulation.

  From chaos to order.

  “Sir, follow me.” The lab tech gestured for the door.

  As soon as they were clear of the anti-chamber, Faddig turned to the technician.

  “What is your plan for that thing? And why was I not informed of its existence?”

  The tech closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath. “This is something I’ve been working on since the relocation. I discovered some of Dr. Michael’s notes that hinted at the possibility of returning cognitive function to the zombie brain. As soon as I read her hypothesis, I knew it was possible. As for my plans? Well, I don’t really have any plans at the moment.”

  “But – ”

  “The subject was just repeating something I gave him – just a seed of a thought. Even so, it does prove, once lower functions are returned to the brain, it is possible to implant action and even determination. The implications, as one might say, are limitless.”

  Faddig looked deep within the wells of the tech’s eyes. “I want Subject 001 ready for deployment in twenty-four hours. And don’t bother objecting – I own you, so you will do what I say. Twenty-four hours. That zombie better be ready to follow my lead.”

  And with that, the leader of the Zero Day Collective left the room in a show of strength and closure. There was no doubt left in the tech’s mind. Faddig’s will be done, else the consequences be dire.

  “So much for a good night’s rest.” The tech turned to the cube, grabbed Subject 001’s chart, and took off for his lab.

  Subject 001 looked up in the darkness of the room, his lips nearly curling up into a grin.

  Chapter 10

  November 20, 2016 7:35 PM

  Fargo, North Dakota

  I never thought I’d see the day when Fargo was in my headlights. But there it was. In all its frozen tundra and thick northern dialect glory. All I could think about was poor William H. Macy and Frances McDormand. The thought of that brilliant film made me wonder if Hollywood was officially and permanently irrelevant. All apocalyptic films had either been proved completely right or completely wrong. The undead rendered the rom com completely laughable (and not in the good way). Reality TV was no longer, well, real.

 

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